Consequences
by Goldenbrook15
Summary: Mulan glanced between the arrow, the figures on the other end of the rope, and the unconscious body in her lap, and knew that the weight would be too much for one man, or even a small group, to pull up. It took her less then a moment to make her decision. Shang was pulled up, but Ping was nowhere to be seen.
1. Ping

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mulan.**

 **If you readers don't like this then I don't care. It was an idea that I had that I am surprised that I could find no one else who had used it yet. So here it is.**

 **This will not be long, maybe two or three chapters. So don't bug me on it. Once it's finished it's finished and I'm going back to my other stories.**

 **(Oh, and this was written a while ago so it is not up to my usual standards for those who have read my other stories, but I didn't want to go through and rewrite it. Enjoy!)**

 **Consequences**

 **Chapter 1**

 _Ping's Decision_

At home she had been the girl who could never do anything right. She could tell that her parents loved her, yes, but they were also disappointed that their daughter could not be more . . . woman-like. She spoke too loud, too much. She did not show respect unless it was earned. She was too thin and acted more like a boy then any of the other girls.

Then there was the Matchmaker. In one stroke her future as a woman was gone. She had dishonored her family and made it impossible to ever be seen as a 'perfect bride'.

She had hidden behind a mask her entire life. She had tried to be the woman that her father wanted her to be, but no matter how much she tried she could never truly fit the mask. The paint on her face disguised her inner turmoil and her natural beauty was something not found in most of the other girls.

When the call had come for her father to join the army she was devastated. Even though whenever her father looked at her she could only she her failures reflected back at her, he was one of the only ones that did not look at her with disgust, and she was not willing to lose him.

So she had cut her hair, taken his armor and the summons, and rode away to join the army. It was not an easy decision, but she did not regret it.

The training camp had been brutal and taxing. She had been failing at every turn, and the men were relentless in picking on 'poor little Ping'. But, for the first time in her life, she felt somewhat free. Her face was not hidden by layers of paint, she was not expected to be graceful, and she was judged by what she could do and how she acted, not by how meek she was.

She had been devastated when Shang, the captain of their small camp, told her to go home. That she did not fit in. No matter what, she could never go back to hiding behind false masks, not after she had a taste of freedom.

So she had done what the other soldiers, _the other men_ , had failed to do. She retrieved the arrow from the top of the pole while wearing the weights.

At that point she had started to improve. She found confidence beyond what she had thought she had possessed, at it seemed that the other men now looked to her as the example, instead of the misfit. If Ping, the weakest and smallest of them all, could do it, then they could too.

It was exhilarating. She loved it. It was a release from everything that she had ever known. The captivity and dark glares from her home town were replaced with admiring glances as she surpassed them in training and became one of the best.

The call for their small camp sent a thrill of excitement through all of them, though Ping, or rather Mulan, also felt fear. If there was any time when she was most prone to discovery it would be on the trip. If she was wounded, there was a large chance that she would be discovered and killed.

She could only hope that it never came to that.

The march had been long and exhausting, and when they had come to the end and saw what was waiting for them, Mulan could feel nothing but horror. There was no camp for them to join, only of field of dead people, an army crushed and burned under the feet of their enemy. It made her sick.

Shang's father had been among those men, and Mulan realized that if her father had come, he would be too. She offered what little comfort that she dared, a soft "I'm sorry," and received and thankful nod and a soft touch to the shoulder before his face hardened and he turned back to the rest of the soldiers, having to put on a brave face for the rest of the warriors. He was their leader and he could not show weakness.

Her heart went out to him and she wished that she could do more, but she knew that she could not.

Their march had continued, this time shadowed with doubt and fear. They were but a small group, nothing compared to the army that they had seen lay frozen on the field, and many of them doubted that they would make it out alive. Duty was duty, though, and they were all that was left between the Huns and the Emperor. They had to at least try. They would probably die trying.

The cannon had not been Mulan's fault, though she felt responsible as Mushu was the one to set off the bright flare that had given away their position. The explosion had brought the Huns down on them. They seemed to be like a single wave of black in the pass. Giant men dressed in furs riding black horses had sent a shiver of dread down their spines.

They were but a few soldiers against what appeared to be a sea of enemy warriors. Next to the Huns, their small resistance was pitiful, and Ping knew that, without a miracle, they were all facing their death.

Then Mulan saw the reflection of the mountain in her sword, and suddenly knew what she had to do.

"Aim the last cannon and Shan-Yu," Shang yelled and Mulan could tell that it was a last effort to take out the leader of the Hans, but she had a better idea.

Without asking for permission Mulan shoved the man holding the cannon out of the way and scooped the weapon up into her arms. Her feet moved faster then the other men would have, her light weight an advantage over them as she did not sink as far into the deep snow. She could hear Shang calling after her, telling her to stop, but she knew that this time she could not obey his orders. This time she had to do what she knew was right, what she knew was her duty, to protect her country even at the cost of her own life.

Her fingers shook from nerves and the cold as she scrambled to scrape a spark from the fire starting rocks in her hands, but a hawk suddenly swooped down and snatched at them, forcing her to drop the rocks into the snow. Panic struck her as she searched frantically for the black rocks, but it was useless.

The sudden appearance of Mushu caused Mulan's eyes to widen and she grabbed him and pulled his tail, causing him to light the cannon's fuse on fire. Within seconds of it lighting, the cannon shot off and Mulan could hear the small lizard like dragon yelling the entire way as he had been caught on the cannon, as well of the panicked neigh of a horse.

For the first time since placing the cannon in the snow Mulan glanced up, and immediately wished that she had not. Shan-Yu, huge and terrifying on his rearing horse, towered above her crouched form. For a moment his eyes followed the stream of smoke left by the cannon until it hit the mountain and cause the snow to begin falling. His eyes filled with understanding, and an untamed rage, as he turned to her.

It happened to fast for Mulan to defend herself or get out of the way. A cry of rage escaped from his lips as he brought his sword down across her side. His horse galloped past, both of them trying to avoid the terrifying wave of white that was quickly swallowing up the army.

Ignoring the pain for the moment, Mulan followed the man's example and scrambled to her feet. Her legs carried her over the snow swiftly and when she saw her motionless, stunned caption, who it seemed had come after her, staring at the oncoming snow. She didn't think twice before grabbing his arm and breaking him from his daze by dragging him after her.

Though they were fast, the snow was faster. It had gained speed as it came down the hill and Mulan knew that they would never outrun it, no matter how fast they were going. Her horse galloped to her side and she easily swung on before turning to offer her hand to Shang.

He lunged for her hand, but the snow caught up to him first. Mulan and her horse were able to stay about the snow miraculously, but she knew that their luck would not last long. The cliff was fast approaching and she could see the snow beginning to fall from its edge like water in a waterfall. Her eyes searched for Shang, hoping beyond hope that she could save him.

Her eyes finally latched on to his unconscious form and she dragged him onto her horse's back while Mushu - when had he gotten here? - scrambled onto her shoulder. She urged her horse to fight against the current of the snow, even though she knew that it was a loosing battle.

She closed her eyes for a moment when the inevitable feeling of tipping over the edge came and her horse screamed in fright. She knew that her life was about to end and, for some reason, she had accepted it.

Then an arrow, seemingly out of the middle of nowhere, landed in the snow next to her. With large eyes she grabbed it, noticing the rope tied to it. Someone was trying to rescue her and Shang. There was one small problem though; one man would not be able to pull her, her horse, and Shang back up over the cliff face.

Mulan glanced between the arrow, the figures on the other end of the rope, and the unconscious body in her lap, and knew that the weight would be too much for one man to pull up. That and, even if they both made it back up, she still had her wound, which needed medical attention. When it was discovered that she was actually a women, she would be killed anyway. To her it was better to die a friend then to die a traitor. It took her less then a moment to make her decision.

Mulan wrapped the rope around Shang's form and shot the arrow back up to the person or people who had sent it. Within seconds Shang was dragged from her grasp as she continued her plunge below.

Her last thought before everything went black was, _"Ancestors, if you are watching, let my sacrifice not be in vain."_

0~o~0

Shang groaned and rubbed his head as he got up, looking around at his soldiers for the one he was searching for, the one who had saved his life, "Where is Ping?" he asked when he could not find him, but all he got in response were devastated faces, and his heart sank.

"Where is he?!" Shang demanded, this time an order.

The three soldiers that had been Ping's closest friends looked down and shifted their feet before Yao replied, a new level of devastation in his voice that Shang had never heard before, "You both went over the edge . . . Ping didn't come back up."

In a quiet voice Po added, "He sacrificed himself so that you could live, so that you could continue to lead us."

No.

 _No._

Not Ping. Not determined, unwavering, undaunted Ping who never once showed fear in the face of danger. It couldn't be possible.

 _He can't be dead._

Shang scrambled to the edge, several arms grasping his own, as if afraid that he would through himself off after Ping. He turned his gaze down, but it was impossible to see through the drifting snow to the bottom.

"Ping!" he yelled, desperately. Ping had not only been an inspiration to the troops, he had also been an inspiration to Shang. He had showed the captain that he could never give up. He had been something like a friend to Shang, someone who even if he could not understand, he could show his support to.

"Ping!" his voice cracked and he waited for a moment, hoping beyond hope that he would hear the distant, slightly high pitched voice of Ping, but he was answered only with silence and the echo of his own voice coming back to him.

Ping was gone.

0~o~0

The honored heroes marched up to the palace where the Emperor was waiting for them. Despite the cheers of the people all around them, they could feel nothing but sadness. They had lost one of their most valued members, the one who truly deserved the title Hero of China. Ping was the one who had wiped out the entire Hun army in one blow, and it was Ping who should have been here, with them.

But he was not here, and the remaining soldiers felt helpless at their inability to save him. Their march to the Emperor was not one of honor in their eyes, it was one of failure, for they had failed the one that truly deserved their respect. The procession paused before the Emperor and Shang bowed before their ruler, holding out the wavy sword.

"May I present the sword of Shan-Yu," he said, his voice projecting over the crowd.

The Emperor reached for it, but before he could lift it from Shang's hands a darkly colored hawk swooped down and plucked the blade from his hands. Shang gasped and stumbled back, watching as the Hawk flew up to the roof and dropped the sword into the waiting hands of Shan-Yu himself.

The Hun grinned darkly and then everything erupted into chaos.

 **0~o~0**

 **Thank you for reading. I do like reviews, so if you give a few I would appreciate it.**

 **Next chapter should be done soon.**


	2. The Woman Who Vanished

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mulan.**

 **I am very surprised with just how well liked this story is and I would like to thank all of those who have responded to this fic. Apologies to everyone for how late this is going up, but I do have an excuse. I had this written before I posted the first chapter but upon reading the reviews I was unsure on whether to change the storyline to fit people's thoughts or to continue from where I had written.**

 **Most people actually think that Mulan died . . . and I brought her back. Oops?**

 **Due to the reviews that I received I decided to do two different stories with the same first chapter, but very different outcomes. The next to chapters are donated to how I was originally going to write this story and then I will create a new story where Mulan actually died (gasps) and the Soldiers have to fight the Huns themselves.**

 **If you want to see the more realistic version (Mulan dies) then wait. I hope this will be worth your time.**

 **Consequences**

 **Chapter 2**

 _The Woman Who Vanished_

Mulan didn't expect to wake up.

The ground under her was hard and cold, pressing into her wounded side. Sharp bolts of pain shooting up her spine made her hiss and try to curl, but the movement only seemed to make it worse. Giving up, Mulan stopped moving, listening to her heart pound softly in her chest, the loudest sound she could hear. Everything else was a blur.

She drifted in and out of consciousness as the hours passed, never truly waking but at the same time not falling into sleep. It was the scrabbling of small feet and the distant sound of a familiar voice that finally forced her into wakefulness.

"Mulan!" her eyes were heavy but she made herself open them to look up at the blurry red face looking down at her. Her chapped, pale lips turned up slightly in a semblance of a smile, making them crack and bleed in the cold.

"Mushu?" Mulan asked, struggling to get her thoughts in order, "What . . . what is going . . . on?"

The cold made it difficult to talk but it had also helped to numb the pain. She couldn't feel anything from her wounded side, or her fingers and feet either, for that matter.

"Oh, this is not good!" Mushu muttered as he dug at the snow that had fallen around her face. Miraculously she had landed mostly on top of the snow and as such was not buried under the massive amounts of cold powder that the Hun army was. There was also the added benefit of the fact that her landing had been soft, as the snow had sank under her weight. It was probably the only reason she was still alive, "Cricky, drag me some wood! We need to get her warmed up, fast!"

Mulan couldn't make out everything that Mushu said but the panic in his voice made her wonder just how bad her condition was.

For such a small dragon it took a surprisingly little amount of time for him to dig her out of the snow and drag her over to the small amount of wood he had arranged and lit. After he had brought her as close as he could without burning her Mushu quickly set about ripping up any extra clothing from her bag to use for bandages on her wound. During that time her horse had managed to find them and lay down by her, helping to warm her up. How he had survived she had no idea but she was glade that he had. He was one of her closest friends.

Her thoughts turned back to Shang as her limbs started to tingle and she got her feeling back. She hoped that he had managed to survive. He was important . . . she was not. The life of one soldier was nothing compared to the last captain alive. Mulan had come to realize that in her days back at camp. Her life was not as important as other people and if necessary she would have to sacrifice herself to save them.

Only, it hadn't quite worked out that way, had it? She was still alive.

It took another hour for her to be able to sit up and her fingers still weren't feeling right. Mushu had managed to find a blanket in her pack, as well as her old clothing. As much as she disliked wearing dresses she knew that the extra cloth would help keep her warm in the freezing weather. She had even kept on the warmer parts of her armor, hidden under the flowing fabric of her dress to trap the heat in. The cold outer armor had to go, however.

Breathing a small puff of visible moisture into the air Mulan sighed, "What am I supposed to do now, Mushu? If I go home then I'll be forced to act like a woman again, and everyone else probably thinks Ping is dead."

 _And he is._ She thought ruthlessly, _I was never meant for the life of a warrior, or a woman._

Mushu opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again, looking into the fire. Mulan felt her heart sink even further.

Before she could give in to her despair, however, a loud, ferocious roar echoed through the valley. Mulan flinched upward, her back straightening in surprise as she turned to look out into the field of snow that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Here and there the weapons of the fallen Huns poked out of the top like ink splatters on parchment. The roar had sounded more like that of an animal than a human, but Mulan knew instantly who it was.

Hidden in one of the surviving batches of trees Mulan watched as Hun warriors seemingly popped from the snow, as if defying death with their desire for revenge and conquest. Her breath caught in her throat with horror.

Some of the Huns had survived.

They would be out to get revenge.

Shang and the other soldiers were probably on their way to the Imperial Palace, the same place the Huns were going.

She had to do something.

Forcing herself to stand and ignoring Mushu's shout for her to stop she stuffed out the fire and pulled herself weakly onto her horse, ignoring the painful pulling of her wound beneath the makeshift bandages. Kahn had not made it out of the avalanche as well as Mushu, but he could still walk. One of his back legs had been scraped and his once majestic fame was beaten down and exhausted, but if there was one quality her horse had, it was loyalty and he would not give up so long as Mulan still needed him. She knew that what she was about to do was stupid, but she also knew she needed to go.

She wasn't Ping. She wasn't Mulan. She was someone unique. She was a survivor, a warrior, a solder, and right now China needed her.

"Where do you think that you are going?!" Mushu shouted as he scrambled up behind her.

Mulan didn't look back at him as she prodded her black horse into a limping trot, "I have to help. They won't be prepared for what is coming."

Mushu sputtered angrily, "And how do you think that you are going to convince them? Your wearing a _dress_! They don't take women seriously!"

Mulan's eyes hardened, "Then I'll have to do it myself."

 _I may not look like a warrior, I may be wounded severely, but if there is one thing that I have learned through becoming a warrior is that China comes first, and right now it's in danger._

 _"You What!?"_ Mushu didn't sound happy, but after a moments pause he sighed, "Well, there's no turning back now. Let's go save China!" and, in a softer mumble, "And then figure out what do from there. I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with this. I'm _so_ dead when I get home."

0~o~0

Shang didn't know what to do. One moment he had been mourning the loss of a great soldier and a friend as well as handing the sword of Shan-Yu to the Emperor and then the next everything seemed to have fallen apart.

The Emperor had been taken inside and hidden inside the palace. The doors had been specially designed to withstand an army of invaders, but the ones who had made them had not thought about an attack from within. Shang and his few remaining soldiers who were still alive had resorted to using one of the stone statues as a battering-ram.

It wasn't working though, Shang had known that it wouldn't but they had to at least try anyway. Ping had given his life so that his commander could continue on and he was not about to throw away that gift.

Maybe if they hit just a little harder . . .

A flash of something caught his eye and drew Shang's attention. His eyes momentarily locked with two familiar brown ones, a single, painfully familiar face among a thousand others watching.

His heart clenched and his breath caught as he, for a moment, thought he was seeing Ping again.

The gaze broke and Shang lost sight of the figure among the throng, but he knew that the person that he had seen wasn't Ping. It had been a woman that he had seen, not the soldier that he had become close to.

Grief, fresh and tearing, ripped at his heart.

If Ping were here he would no doubt have already come up with a different plan by now. Ping was like that. He was resourceful and inventive, he had to be. Being small and young he had started out with a disadvantage, but he hadn't let his weaknesses beat him and found ways to work around the problem, instead of having to face it head on.

Shang's shoulders ached as they came in for another swing, and he could see several of his men trembling in the effort to hold up the stone statue. With a final, sentencing _boom_ the stone hit the doors and, unable to hold it up anyone, his men dropped the statue in defeat.

Rage boiled in him as he looked at the doors. Why did this happen now? Why did he have to bear this responsibility? Why did he have to fail, after everything that had happened?

Another flicker of movement caught his attention and Shang turned slightly to see the woman who looked like Ping running toward the palace wall. He hesitated, wondering what she was doing.

Then she took her sash and flung it over one of the pillars, catching the other side in her spare hand. Deftly and seemingly without much effort she began to scale the pillar to the second level, to an unexpected entrance.

Shang couldn't believe it, a woman had thought of something that they hadn't and was trying to get to the Emperor. She hadn't, however, come to them first, and no one really noticed her. It showed her lack of confidence in them and her headstrong attitude.

Her idea, though, was something he could work with.

"Men!" he barked, causing the soldiers to turn to him, "I think I might have another way in."

 _Let's hope that woman doesn't get herself killed before we get there._

0~o~0

Mulan knew that because she was a woman no one would listen to her, or at least they wouldn't take her seriously, but that didn't stop her from trying.

"Please, you must listen, the Huns are here!"

The people ignored her in favor of clapping as Shang and the soldiers walked forward toward the base of the palace. She growled softly, angry that no one would pay attention to her, but knew that it wouldn't do any good.

Silence fell over the crowd as Shang knelt and held out the sword of Shan-Yu, but Mulan only felt the pit in her stomach sink farther. She didn't know where the Huns were hiding but she knew that they were there. The only question was when they were going to strike, and how.

A loud, piercing screech echoed through the air as a dark hawk swooped down and plucked the sword from Shang's hands. Mulan's breath caught in her throat as the shadowy figure on top of the roof caught the sword at it was dropped over his head.

Shan-Yu.

Before anyone could react the festival dragon was torn apart and several Huns poured out from its depths. They pushed Shang to the side, grabbed the Emperor and dragged him into the palace, shutting the doors firmly behind them.

The soldiers tried to break down the doors but she knew that they wouldn't be able to. Desperately her eyes sought out Shang's and for a moment his locked on hers and widened slightly. A thousand emotions seemed to be conveyed through one glance and Mulan looked away, knowing she couldn't be distracted.

There wasn't an entrance on the first floor . . . but if she could get up to the second level there was very little to keep her out.

Determination running through her Mulan quickly pulled the long sash off of her and ran toward the tall pillars. It was just like when she had to retrieve the arrow from the top of the pole, except this time without the weights it went a lot faster.

She took a moment to crouch at the top and observe what was beyond before she slipped into the palace. By this point some people in the crowd had spotted her and there were exclamations of surprise throughout the people.

Mulan didn't stop to acknowledge them. Every second that she wasted was a second closer to failure. Her feet were light and near silent as she traveled the empty halls, trying to find the place that the Emperor had been taken. The sound of talking caused her to stop before she turned the corner, thought, as she found herself faced with a group of Huns guarding a balcony.

Narrowing her eyes Mulan glanced around before coming to a decision and pulling out a small, near useless dagger from her shoe. Taking careful aim she let the dagger fly at the rope that connected the large candle holder to the ceiling. The Huns were, ironically, standing right underneath it.

Mulan may not have practiced much with her knife when in the camp, but it had been one of her favorite pastimes back when she was little. Her father had not approved, but her grandmother had been cheering her on the entire time.

The heavy metal fell with a clatter as the knife cut through the rope and the Huns were taken by surprise as they were forced to the ground, stunned. Mulan winced at the sound but quickly dashed past the dazed warriors to the entrance, scooping up her knife from where it had fallen, and burst out onto the balcony.

She was just in time to dash forward and block the downward swing of Shan-Yu as his sword descended toward the Emperor. The large sword pushed her dagger downward and Mulan had to grit her teeth against the pain as her side flared up. Shan-Yu had a surprised look on his face as he found her blocking his path.

He stepped back for a moment, pulling his sword back and holding it at his side as he looked at her in confusion. Mulan growled and held her small dagger in front of her, pathetic as it looked.

Shan-Yu frowned as he examined her features before his eyes lit up in recognition as he noticed the bloodstain in the side of her dress where her wound had reopened. He knew she was the one from the mountains.

" _You."_ Shan-Yu's eyes blazed with fury and he brought his sword up and swung at her, making her duck to the side. He had completely forgotten about the Emperor, his mind focused on Mulan, "You took away my victory! You destroyed _everything_!" he shouted as he swung again, only for the sword to bite deeply into wood when she ducked and moved out of the way.

Mulan's mind worked furiously as she tried to come up with a way to get the Emperor to safety. An unexpected kick had her falling on her back as Shan-Yu yanked his sword from the wood. Her dagger flew from her hands and far from her reach and her side flared angrily, the bloodstain spreading faster then it should.

Shan-Yu grinned down at her as he prepared to bring the final blow down on her, only to be tackled to the side by a man in a red cloak.

Mulan felt her breath freeze in her lungs. Shang, _her captain,_ had just tackled the Hun leader to save her, and he didn't even know who she really was. The other soldiers that she had fought along came spilling in after him. Po grabbed the Emperor and jumped, catching onto a lantern that he used to get down. The others followed except Shang.

Shan-Yu knocked Shang to the side and the captain hit his head on the wall, knocking him out instantly. Then the Hun turned his eyes back to Mulan. She felt a shiver of fear go up her spin but knew, for the second time in her life, she might have to die. Scrambling to her feet she quickly ran back into the palace. Behind her she could hear Shan-Yu trying to keep up with her pace. Her mind worked frantically to find a solution but no matter how much she tried to make her brain work it refused.

Somehow, she wouldn't be able to recall later, they ended up on the roof, facing off. Having lost her dagger the only thing that she had on her was a fan. One of her hands was spared putting pressure on her side, which was quickly bleeding out. Even if she did survive this, she knew that there was little chance of living through the amount of blood she had lost. He bared his teeth at her in a semblance of a smile when he saw it.

"No where to run, little viper," he said, his eyes glinting, "Injured, and you're out of tricks."

He thrust his sword forward and, thinking quickly, Mulan let the blade slice through the material on her fan before closing it on the cold metal and twisting it. The blade was pulled free from his hands and she deftly caught it, pointing it back at him.

"Not quite," she hissed, "Mushu!"

 _I really hope whatever you came up with works._

She had left Mushu in charge of making up a plan and she really hoped that it would work, seeing as she didn't exactly know what it was at this point in time.

"Ready Baby!" the small dragon shouted with a grin as he tore of the covering for the largest, most dangerous firework that he could find.

Shan-Yu's eyes widened and he turned with rage to run but Mulan refused to let him go. She stabbed his own sword into his clothing, pinning him to the top of the roof. The sword held fast and the Hun leader was unable to move.

Knowing that if she didn't get off the roof as fast as she could Mulan ran, scooping up the cricket and Mushu as she did so before jumping from the roof and catching a lantern. Behind her the rocket caught Shan-Yu and blew him into the rocket tower where the entire thing exploded into an array of colors as the fireworks ignited.

The blast made her loose her grip and she fell onto someone below her. Her side pulled painfully but she ignored, withholding a gasp of pain, it in favor of finding out who she had landed on. He eyes locked with Shang's and her eyes widened slightly before she pulled herself up.

She _couldn't_ let him know who she was.

Before he could stop her she disappeared into the crowds and vanished.

0~o~0

When Shang had seen the woman facing off against Shan-Yu he couldn't help but admire her courage . . . or maybe it was stupidity. He had only caught a brief glance at her but she reminded him of Ping, never giving up.

Shan-Yu had knocked him out and when he had woken he had been just in time to see the firework tower go up in flames. He had seen the woman trying to get down on one of the lanterns and had run to catch her, knowing that a fall from that height could possibly kill her.

Of course she just had to land _on_ him.

She pushed herself to her feet and again their eyes locked. Distantly he wondered if she was a relative of Ping. Her eyes widened and, before he could tell her to stop, she had turned and vanished among the throng, who didn't seem to notice her.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to find her among the many thousands gathered, so he made his way back to his men.

0~o~0

"What is the meaning of this!" The Emperor yelled as he came down the steps, his eyes trailing over the soldiers and a frown making its way across his face as if he hadn't found what he was looking for, "And where is the woman who saved my life?"

The other soldiers glanced around and then at their feet. Shang stepped forward, taking responsibility, "She's gone, Your Highness. She . . . left before we could stop her."

The Emperor frowned, "Do you at least know who she was?" he asked.

Shang shook his head, "We've never seen her before."

His heart fluttered in grief as he remembered how similar she had looked to Ping.

The Emperor looked out over everyone and sighed, "She is a hero of China now," he said softly, "I expect you to find her, Captain. She deserves to be acknowledged for what she has done for us."

Shang bowed and turned to leave. Putting his helmet on he found one of his hands coated in a sticky substance. When he looked, his heart jumped as he recognized the unmistakable red of blood, lots of it, but it wasn't his.

It was hers.

She had been wounded.

 **0~o~0**

 **Ah, cliffhangers. You have to love them. Next chapter should be the last of this set, see you soon and review!**


	3. Grieving

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mulan.**

 **Sorry about the wait. I really did have his mostly written, but test week caught up with me and it's not over yet (Maybe they should call it testing** ** _months_** **?). Anyway, here it is and I hope you all like it. The final installment of Consequences is here!**

 **Unless you want me to continue it. If so, say something and I might consider it. If not, I'll assume that everyone is happy.**

 **On with the Chapter!**

 **Consequences**

 **Chapter 2**

 _Grieving_

They searched for months.

The woman that the Emperor had commanded them to find seemed to just have disappeared. When they asked around after her description all they would get were blank looks and confused stuttering. Towns near the Palace had been searched, farms had been questioned, and the forests were carefully inspected.

It was as if she had simply vanished into thin air.

The only evidence that they even had of her existence by this point was the outcome of the battle with the Huns and a small, unadorned dagger that had been left behind on the balcony she had been fighting on.

She was, for all intents and proposes, gone.

All the wile Shang's heart ached.

He doubted that they would find her. The amount of blood that they had found was a testament to the fact that, if she did somehow survive and made it out, she would not make it more than a couple of weeks without help. If they found her by this point, she would most likely not be in this world.

Just like Ping.

Shang closed his eyes and sat down on his bed, putting his head in his hands. His grief threatened to overwhelmed him as he refused to let the tears spill from his eyes.

He had no idea how attached he had become to the small but incredibly intelligent soldier that had saved their lives. He had never heard from his father just how hard it was to loose one of his best soldiers.

What hurt even worse was the fact that, while the rest of them were rewarded for their efforts, Ping remained unknown to the rest of the people.

China would remain ignorant of the soldier who had given his life so that his comrades, his _friends,_ could continue on, so that they could eventually go on to save the Emperor. To them, he was just another Soldier who hadn't been fast enough, good enough, _brave_ enough, to survive the battles.

But Ping _was._ The only reason that Ping was not with the rest of the soldiers was because of _him_. _He_ had been the one who wasn't fast enough, intelligent enough, _brave enough,_ to survive. But Ping had known that the men needed a leader. He knew that They would never make it to the Emperor without someone to guide them.

Ping had never considered the fact that maybe Shang wasn't the only one that could have led the men to victory. Ping could have saved himself. His reputation with the men and his intelligence would have given him the respect needed to lead the men onwards.

Between the two of them, Ping should not have been the one to die.

Shang laid down and dug his hands into his eyes. Allowing himself one moment of pure _grief_ , and _pain,_ and _I'm so sorry Ping I failed you_ to wash over him.

Then that moment passed and he locked it all away again.

Tomorrow the sun would rise. The soldiers would wake and get ready to march. Shang would lead them.

Tomorrow.

0~o~0

"Message from the Emperor!" a young man called as he made his way through the milling troops. "Make way! Message from the Emperor for General Li!"

The men shifted out of the way, curious but not caring too much. It was breakfast and the food was about to be served. They had no wish to skip their meal to eavesdrop.

The messenger dismounted from his brown horse and slipped inside the Captain's tent at Shang's nod from within.

Shang put down his brush, gently blowing on the cloth that he had been writing on. "What is it that the Emperor wishes?" he asked.

The messenger shifted slightly and reached into his bag, pulling out a scroll and unfurling it. Clearing his throat, the man began to speak, "By order of the Emperor, General Li has been given a temporary leave for his bravery and actions during the Huns invasion. This leave will be exactly one month long and in his absence General Li can appoint any soldier he wishes to take command while he is gone. Signed, the Emperor."

Shang felt his breath freeze. "Is that all?"

Smiling sheepishly the messenger again pulled out another scroll and handed it to Shang. "This is for your eyes only."

Shang nodded, keeping his slightly worried look off of his face. Was he being dismissed from the army? Why? Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he took the scroll and dismissed the messenger to wait outside of the tent.

Carefully unrolling the scroll after the other had left, Shang began to read.

 _General Li,_

 _I knew your father well and your actions have proven your loyalty to me and to China many times over. However, many have come to me with their concerns over your health._

 _Word has reached me that an especially promising soldier was lost in the Pass, and it has effected you greatly. From what I was told, this young man was essentially your apprentice after he started showing promise, and his loss hit you especially hard after he saved your life._

 _I offer you my condolences and a chance to grieve. Take the time that has been given, and make good of it. I am sure that you will know what to do._

 _This is not a dismissal. I expect you back in a months time, General._

 _Good luck,_

 _The Emperor_

Shang placed the scroll down, his hands shaking slightly even as his breath once again threatened to hitch.

 _Ping._

The letter brought up painful memories, memories of Ping sitting on top of the log with an arrow buried in the ground at his feet, of Ping never giving up, of Ping _knocking him down_ in practice. The soldier had gone from a know-nothing boy to a determined soldier in a matter of hours, all just because he had needed the right encouragement _._

And Shang had been the one to cause his dead. He should have made sure that Ping had just gone home that night. Maybe then he would not have to deal with the pain of loosing him.

Of loosing someone who had become like a brother to him.

Maybe the Emperor was right. He _did_ need some time.

And he knew just who he was going to go see.

0~o~0

Mulan really didn't know how she had survived. Maybe it was the intense survival training that she had gone through in camp. Maybe it was her stubborn willfulness that had gotten her into the mess in the first place. Whatever it was, though, it was keeping her alive.

It was keeping her moving forward.

She had stopped only to collect her armor and bandage her wound again. She had thought that her death was assured after realizing just how much blood she had lost. Her weakened body had shook for days afterward as she withstood the chills and foggy mind that came with a high fever.

Through it all, Mushu took car of her, and keep them moving. No doubt the Emperor had people combing the land in search of her, but she had no wish to be found. She was a disgrace, someone who should have died a dozen times over but hadn't yet. She didn't deserve any reward given to her.

She couldn't allow those who knew her to realize who she really was, she didn't want their memory of her to be tainted.

So, even through the pain, the sickness, the grief, she pressed forward. Where she was going she didn't completely know. All she was sure of was that she had to keep putting one step in front of the other, over and over again.

Days, weeks, maybe a month passed her in a daze. Sometimes she would wake up thinking that she was Ping, that she was still in the camp and had to wake up before the sun to get ready. Other times she was Mulan, timid yet fierce and determined to protect her family from the fate that awaited them, but still too weak to do much.

And sometimes she was both: Ping _and_ Mulan. A mixture, a little of both, the only reason she was still alive. Mulan would have given up already, too weak to go on. Ping would have pushed himself until he had collapsed and died anyway. But being both meant that she _survived._

It was only when the gates that she was oh so familiar with came into view that she felt her heart relax and a feeling of safety wash over her.

She was home.

0~o~0

It had been nearly a year since their daughter had left them to join the army disguised as a boy. It had been a year of worry and fear. Would Mulan come home? Would she be discovered?

Would they ever get to see her again?

Fa Li didn't know, but she hoped for the sake of both of them that Mulan would find her way back to them. Fa Li knew that her husband would not last much longer if no news of their daughter reached them. War was dangerous. It took bravery, courage, and intelligence to survive it.

Just a few weeks before, word had reached their small village that the Huns had invaded and been defeated by a band of barely trained soldiers. Only a few of those soldiers had survived.

Mulan had been with that group, and they could only hope that she was still alive.

That was why, nearly a month after news of the Huns defeat had reached them, Fa Li was surprised to find a figure stumbling into their yard, leading a familiar black horse and nearly soaked from head to foot from the rain. The dark green and black armor was unmistakable.

The bowl that she had been holding shattered on the stone walkway seconds after she started running toward the hunched figure. The rain drizzled down around her, leaving puddles that she splashed through carelessly and obscuring the air. Fa Li reached the figure and froze in front of them, taking in their features.

It was a feminine face, devoid of makeup and tanned from time spent in the sun. The black hair was pulled back into a bun tied in a green ribbon, but if it had hung down around their face it would only have emphasized the womanish features. As it was, the other could have passed as a young boy, barely.

A small smile slipped over the soldier's features as dark, tired eyes sparkled.

"Hello, Mother."

Fa Li's breath caught, and she reached forward hesitantly to brush against the other's face.

"Mulan?"

Her daughter nodded her smile widening. Fa Li felt a laugh of happiness bubble up inside of her. Her daughter was home! Alive! She was alright!

And then Mulan collapsed.

0~o~0

Mulan spent several weeks in bed. Her parents took care of her even as she battled the infection that had settled into her wound. Most would have already died.

By the third week she was already up again and moving around.

To her father's exasperation Mulan refused to be the young woman she had worked her whole life to be. She _couldn't_ be that person anymore. She could not willingly marry someone who didn't understand what she had gone though, _what she had seen_.

War changed people. Sometimes for the better. Sometimes for the worse. Whatever happened, they never came back the same.

Mulan like to think that for her it was a little bit of both.

0~o~0

Shang hesitated as he stood in front of the Fa's home. Their doors loomed, tall and dark, just like the information he bore. It was something that he had to do, he knew, and he took full responsibility.

He had been Ping's commanding officer, and Ping had been his best, most loyal solder. Without Ping, China would have fallen. And yet, no one would remember him except for those who knew him. To everyone else he was just a brave soldier who died on the battlefield, but to Shang he was so much more. Ping family deserved nothing less then his personal condolences, not a piece of paper telling them of their son's death.

He took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and wondered what Ping's father would be like. He raised his hand and knocked slightly, hearing the sound of his fist echo through the wooden door. Though the estate itself was extremely large, he hoped that someone would be there to allow him in. It would be impolite to just barge in.

He waited several moments and was about to turn away to try again some other time when the doors creaked opened, revealing an old, graying woman with kind, blue eyes. Her facial structure reminded Shang of Ping, and a sharp pain wracked his heart as he realized that this must have been the young soldier's mother.

Shang cleared his throat, bowing slightly, "I'm here to speak to Fa Zhao. Is he . . . is he here?" he could hear his voice cracking slightly again.

The woman frowned, looking like she wanted to say something, but held back and nodded, "Come in."

She held the door open and Shang bowed again slightly as he came through. Seeing the inside of the estate, however, made him catch his breath. It was beautiful. Lush, ancient trees towered above green grass, cut stone, and babbling brooks. It was a land out of dreams.

No wonder Ping had been so unprepared for the world outside, if this is where he had grown up, decorated, retired war captain for a father or not.

The old woman led him to a modest home and let him in, directing him softly to a table to wait while she found her husband. Shang nodded respectfully and took a seat, looking out the window into the beautiful scenery beyond. In his mind he could almost imagine a small child running around, trying and failing to climb the tall trees and leaping across the brook with the agile confidence of youth.

What would Ping have been like had he never gone to war? If he had not died? Shang guessed that he would have probably ended up as a scribe, or a scalar, peacefully married and happy.

If Ping had not died for his country, would he have ever met the brave, determined person who could inspire anyone around him to do better? Shang did not know.

It was the soft swish and clang of a sword that drew Shang's attention from the window as he turned toward the hall. Ping's mother was not yet back and the room the sound was coming from was not in the direction that she had gone, which meant that someone else was in the house.

Was it possible that Ping had . . . a younger brother?

Puzzled, Shang stood and made his way to the room. The door was slightly open when he got there and he poked his head through curious.

Before him stood a figure dressed in dark green, soldiers armor. _Familiar_ soldiers' armor. It was slightly too big for the slight frame, but the other didn't seem to mind, continuing their voiceless dance with an unseen enemy as the bright, reflective blade caught the light, slipping in and out from among unseen enemies. Short hair was pulled up into a bun at the back of the figures head and tied with a green ribbon.

A floorboard creaked as he unknowingly moved closer, making the figure spin and, for the first time, Shang saw the figure's face.

They both froze, one with a sword half leveled, and Shang with disbelief rippling through him. It was impossible . . .

Hazel eyes softened and the sword was swiftly sheathed. A hand, clothed in green and black armor, was placed over the other's heart in a salute while they gave a deep bow.

"I wasn't expecting you, Captain."

The bow had exposed a white bandage running up the other's side, evidence of a still healing wound.

Shang felt like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest with the hope that was rushing through him.

"Ping?"

The soldier smirked slightly, hand unconsciously drifting to his side where the wound was.

"It's good to see you, Shang."

0~o~0

The soldiers groaned as they saw the General's white horse riding in. While they appreciated the man's intelligence and greatness in battle he was a slave driver when it came to training. Only those who had fought with him didn't show any displeasure. They were more interested at the horse riding next to their commander.

Chien-Po, the tallest of the more veteran soldiers, felt his eyes widen as he nudged Yao, "Do you see that person next to the General?"

Yao, sadly, wasn't the tallest of men, so the grumbled a sarcastic, "You think I can?"

On the other side of him Ling's breath caught in his throat.

"Is . . . is that . . . who I think it is?" he whispered, his eyes wide and his hands trembling slightly. The newer recruits looked at him strangely but otherwise didn't comment.

The moment that the General road into camp, however, there could be no doubt. The oversized armor (though it looked to have been adjusted slightly for the young man's size), the distinctive green ribbon around his hair bun, the black and white horse he road upon, and the quiet meekness contained in a strong will could only be one person.

Shang reeled in his horse as the newer recruits looked at him strangely. The General had changed quite a bit since he had left near a month before. The dark cloud that had seemed to hang above his head for the time that they had known him was gone and in its place was a confident man, one they could see following into battle.

A smirk crossed his face as his eyes flicked to his companion. "Men," he shouted, quieting any muttering from the crowd and making them straighten, "Let me introduce you to your new Captain, Fa Ping."

From the back of the crowd there was a load thump as Yao fell into a dead faint.

Ping, for his part, gaped at the now grinning General and then, with a screech that had the men closest to him clutching the ears, yelled, "Li Shang you had better have a good explanation for yourself! I wasn't dragged all the way here just so that you could make me a Captain! For all intents and purposes I-"

"Ping."

Ping's mouth clicked shut and his eyes narrowed but he didn't continue. Shang just grinned and kicked his horse back into a trot.

"You'll be a great Captain."

Ping was left with three dozen gaping soldiers and no one to get mad at. Turning red from anger and embarrassment he turned his eyes on the group assembled before him with a slight scowl, "What are you all looking at? Get back to training!"

The men scattered.

Whoever Fa Ping was, they were _not_ going to anger someone who could change the General's attitude from depressed to mischievous in just a few weeks, maybe less.

It also didn't help when the stories started to circulate about how, _technically_ , Fa Ping had died in the battle for the pass a few months ago when saving his Captain, the General Li, and stropping most of the Hun army by drowning them in an avalanche of snow using one carefully calculated cannon blast.

Definitely not someone you want to get on the bad side of.

And Yao, Chien-Po, and Ling _still_ didn't know how Ping had survived going over the side of a cliff.

Neither did Shang, for that matter.

But any time they asked, Ping would just raze one eyes brow in a "You think _I_ should know?" and told them to get back to work.

Shang was a good Captain and a better General.

Ping was an inspirational soldier, but as a Captain he thrived.

And his soldiers thrived under him. Legends would be told for generations to come about Captain Fa's division who never failed.

Eventually Fa Mulan faded into the pages of history, nothing more than a girl who didn't pass the Matchmaker's test, but Fa Ping's story lived on forever.

Still incomplete and waiting, there was one last mystery, one last secret, one last confession that was never uttered.

Fa Mulan was the Hero of China that no one knew.

Fa Ping was the soldier who survive against all odds and lived to become a legend.

Together, they were one and the same.

0~o~0

 **The End**

 **If anyone wants to continue this, go ahead. Just tell me first so I can read it. I actually like how this turned out, so please tell me what you think!**

 **Review!**

 **(Updated: 4/1/2016)**


End file.
